


Athenaeum

by All_Hallows_Evie



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Gen, Rated For Violence, Rated T for Trashmouth (IT), no beta we die like men, no y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28211178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Hallows_Evie/pseuds/All_Hallows_Evie
Summary: You are the sole caretaker of a small archive in an outer rim planet, where you collect information from anyone who happens to wander through. When the Mandalorian happens to appear at your door you are loathe to help, but the kid wins you over.But this is Star Wars, and nothing is ever that easy.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Thanks for taking a chance on my first fic in almost twenty years!  
> Hope you enjoy, and hope it doesn't suck too badly.  
> Tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, but we'll see how I do.

The whole damn town was a buzz.

It makes your stomach turn with every excited whisper that makes it through your door.

Every titter makes your hackles rise, your only counter to the noise outside is to throw yourself into your work even more, until you are deaf to the rumors that swirl around on every breeze.

Buzz was bad.

Buzz attracts attention.

Attention was the whole reason you had come to this tiny outcropping in the middle of nowhere. The lack of attention from the remnants of the Empire, and the absence of grubby little hands from the New Republic is the only reason you continue to stay in this go nowhere town.

The sigh that escapes your lips is half exasperation and half anxious prayer and you don't like the way it echoes in your ears. It bounces off the smooth metal of your helmet. It isn’t anything fancy, just a smooth helmet with slightly pointed plasti-form where your chin is, the area where helmets usually have places for eye holes is covered with a smooth glowing blue screen that hides your features from anyone on the other side. The display looks blank from the outside, but from the inside trails of code scroll across the screen and it’s sensors are continuously scanning your environment, looking for something new to catalogue. Even now, in the dim light of your home turned library, the display flickers blue, trying to bring your attention to the work in front of you.

Where were you again? Oh right, cataloging entries for medicinal herbs you had collected from the sage that had passed through town only last week.

There was no buzz then, no gossip setting the town ablaze.

You swear under your breath, this was pointless. You couldn’t stop thinking about the trouble that is wandering around the outskirts, in it’s big stupid beskar boots.

Hopefully the bounty hunter, a Mandalorian if the rumors are to be believed, had landed in their ship just this morning. Maker hoping he will be in and out in no time, you can’t imagine anyone in the tiny town would be of any importance, anyone worth dragging in for a bounty…

Unless…

No, you shake your head and push the holo-disks you are working on away. There's no way. You try and push the thought away from your mind. You decide instead to just close up shop, there’s no reason to stay if you can’t even focus long enough to pay attention, let alone work. You turn away from your desk but you don’t even get a chance to stand up before the tell tale thunk of heavy boots are in your doorway, you can hear them from all the way in your tiny little cove in the back of the hovel.

How could he possibly be any good if he stomped around like a pack of taun tauns.

“Anyone there?” He calls into the darkness.

You mouth the heftiest swear you know, your head tilts back in silent prayer before you turn the entire way and step out from the dark corners. It’s just your shadow in the corridor lined up with his shadow in the doorway.

Even in the pitch black and with the best heat sensing tech in that flashy helmet of his, you were sure the only part he can see of you is the illuminated screen of your own helmet. It gives you little comfort now, but it's probably the only comfort you will get until he breaks atmo on his way off this rock.

“What do you want, Mandalorian?” You reply, thanking every god you know of that your voice sounds steady, unwavering, unafraid even though your heart won't stop running laps underneath your ribs.

He takes a few steps inside the tiny enclosure, even under the dim light of the small hovel his silver armor glimmers menacingly. “I need information. I was told you might have it.”

“Hn.” Is all you can muster as you slowly walk closer, you want nothing but the shakes in your belly to stop as you approach. The Mandalorian easily towers over you by at least a head, “Did they mention that information isn’t free?” You stand a few feet from him, not daring to get any closer, fearing he could hear your pulse hitting lightspeed if you did.

“I can pay.” He says bluntly, the modulator in his helmet making it hard to piece together what he really sounds like under there.

“Money is worthless to me.” You respond easily, not quite sure where this brave person has been hiding all this time, but you are starting to really like them.

He sighs, loudly.

Now you did it, prepare to be vaporized. You think, but your feet are already planted firmly on the ground and you can't run even if you wanted to.

“Then what?”

You can't help but laugh at his dejected tone, “Kriff Mando, it’s not like I’m asking you to slit your wrists.” You hop up on one of the tables set in the middle of the room for guests, you sit on the smooth surface, your legs swing with your nervousness in time with your rapid heartbeat, “You want information, you give information. That's how it works here.”

He shifts a bit, a movement so small you wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the slight swing the black cape draped over his shoulder gives away. If uncertainty was water, it would be rolling off that slick armor in waves and you would have drowned in it before he says another word.

“Why?”

You can’t help but smirk under your helmet, the screen readout already catalogs the shape of his helmet, the Amban rifle slung across his back with it’s homemade stock, carved to fit tight against his shoulder. You can even make out where he has notched it to take the ridge of his pauldron. Your screen flashes brightly around the imprint of a Mudhorn skull over his right shoulder. 

Native to Arvala-7 is what your readout says. 

Is that where he is from? 

Probably not, but it only helps to solidify an inkling of an idea when he entered your home and didn't remove his helmet. The creed was deeply ingrained in his head. You had been silent for too long, “That's what this place is, it keeps records, it keeps knowledge. That’s all.”

Your words have no impact on his uncertainty, something you are keen to bring up, that is, until you hear the quiet coo coming from the tan bag that is slung across his shoulders. There is noticeable movement as something in the bag starts to crawl to the opening.

“That’s not how Mandalorian's carry babies.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Lightest green and pointy ear tips peek out, followed by cloud soft wisps of white hair and the biggest brown eyes you have ever seen on any living thing.

“Maker above…that's not a kriffing baby.”


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMFG I am so sorry everyone! I didn't mean for there to be such a huge gap between postings but the holidays and life...you know how it goes.  
> Anyway, here's the second smaller chunk, more notes at the end!
> 
> Hope it's not too awful!

“-No, don’t let him!”

“No, too late!”

It’s force of habit that makes your hands rise to your face in an attempt to cover the laugh that leaves your lips but instead your hands hit the cold display of the screen of your helmet as you watch the Mandalorian chase down the tiny green terror currently running amok in the shop, a holodisk firmly held in it’s tiny, drooling mouth.

The Mandalorian runs up beside him before he sweeps the kid up from the ground and gently pulls the plastic case from his jaws, his tiny body held tight in the crook of the Mandalorian’s arm.

“I'm sorry.” He replies, his usual monotone tinged with something that might be sheepishness, but its so subtle you aren't quite sure. He places the spit shiny disk into your open hand. Under your helmet, hidden away from his eyes you can’t help but bite your bottom lip, thankful you only have to wash a glove instead of your hand, “It was empty anyway.” You sigh.

“Everything goes in there now.” He says as the baby babbles over him happily, little three fingered claws grasp in your direction.

“Do us a favor and don't be here when he turns two.” You reply as you wipe the disk against your pant leg before slipping it into your pocket. “Or whatever two is, for his kind.”

The Mandalorian is silent, the T bar of his helmet slowly moving from the child towards you, “You don’t know what he is.”

You shake your head softly, “No.” You exhale, “That information was lost when the Old Republic fell.”

“Were there others…of his kind?”

You cross your arms over your chest, hips pushing back against the edge of the closest table, “Only two others that I’ve been able to find record of.”

“They were jedi?"

Your nod is short, curt. He asks for the impossible, something you cannot give.

His sigh is a reflection of your own mood, frustrated, another dead end for the two of you.

“I'm sorry.”

He is silent again, the only sound in the shop is the gentle buzz of people chatting out on the street and the gurgles from the child. A few moments pass before he finally speaks again, “What do you know of the Jedi?”

You look away, ever grateful for the helmet around your face, or else he would have seen the way you grinned in amazement, this kriffing mando was something else, “The Jedi?” You reply, making sure you had heard him right.

“Yes.”

“Still gonna cost you, Mando.” you smirk.

"I can give you mandates from my culture."

You tsk, "I hope that's not all, or else you have nothing to trade. I've got more than I need about your type of Mandalorian and your creed."

"What do you mean, my type?"

You are toeing a dangerous line and a part of you isn't sure if you were enjoying hanging this information over the Mandalorian or if you feel genuinely sorry for him, "You can't cover the cost of your first question, why would I give you more?"

His emotions fill the room, at first the air wavers with an unsure light blue, but now, it was like a fire had erupted. The walls are painted thick with red, if you kept pushing you might be able to cook him inside his own beskar can.

"Go ahead, get mad and storm out." You push breathlessly, this side of you needs to stop, it's going too far, you are getting too bold,, but you can't pull it back now, "Spend the rest of your life searching for the information I have stored away."

The black T bar of his helmet never leaves your line of sight, but he says nothing as he tucks the child safely away in his tan bag, hiding him under the loose canvas flap. He walks out without another word and your knees buckle under you.

You fall hard on to the floor, absolutely taken aback by the way this all played out. 

It so unlike you at all...no, it was so unlike the person you had tried to craft when you came here. You curl your fingers into tight fists and press them into the top of your thighs until you can feel them start to bruise, knuckles cracking with the pressure.

This kriffing Mando is going to get you killed or worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the short chapter but the next one...oof.  
> It's longer and holy cow I hope y'all are ready for domestic GOODNESS lol.
> 
> Thanks again for sticking with me, hope the next couple of chapters make it worth the wait!!


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready?  
> This one is chunky, but funky.   
> Get ready for lots of reading but lots of domestic fluff...and then....*GASP* Is that perhaps a plot in the distance?  
> Maybe, I dunno.   
> Guess we will see.

Two nights came and went, and life seems to get back to normal. The excitement from the arrival of the silver soldier of fortune has finally died down, and your overflowing stack of uncategorized information disks is finally starting to peter down to a sad stack of uninspired information split between discs. It was a shame the Mando had no information to give, it was always hard to gage when someone else even half as exciting might wander through town.

Your mind begins to wander. It circles around the dark corners of your mind, you are mindful and careful to stay away from the shadows that linger there but your toes can't help but dip in slightly, rewards for your curiosity come instantly, flashes of memories blind you, white as lightning and almost twice as hot.

It’s the high pitched squeal that finally manages to break you away from your thoughts, as a little green and tan blob of energy zooms underneath your table. Six little claws pinch into your calf. You peer under the table as the bubbling little gurgles start.

"Hello you," you coo back, "Where's your big bad bodyguard?"

The child clutches at the tops of your worn boots, pulling them slowly from off your calves as he tries in vain to crawl up your leg.

"Brave little thing, aren't you?" You sigh as you pull your boot back up by the thin leather before setting the child on the table in front of you. His little hands instantly clutching at the edge of your helmet.

"Can you watch him?"

You don’t even turn to face him, "You must be out of your mind Mando." Comes your huff of a reply.

"Overnight is all I ask."

Now you can’t help but turn, you sling your arm over the back of your chair, "No one else could take him in for you?"

"He doesn't like anyone else."

_ Doubtful _ , you can't help but think as your eyes roll behind the safety of your helmet. 

"I will get you what you ask."

"Hn. So you expect me to watch your kid and give you access to my files...all for...what?"

"My bounty is a slaver from Baralou, sold native Krikthasi to anyone who would pay."

You hate the way your heart skips a beat at his words, "Krikthasi." You repeat, your mind mulls over the unknown word.

"It's a worm." He replies to your silence, "One of two species on the planet."

"Fine." You sigh as your mouth grows dry. You couldn’t think of anything else you would like to do less than to babysit tonight. "Overnight Mando, and not a second longer."

He is already at the door before you can say anything else, his dark cape sways behind him as you turn back to the child who seems too distracted by the images on your viewpad to notice that his father, guard...whatever the Mandalorian was to this tiny creature is quietly leaving him behind.

"I hope you can eat human food." You sigh, pulling your gloves from off of your hands and slapping them onto the table a little harder than you intend. You reach over to the screen and flip to the next image, the child gurgles happily, plopping down on the table and pulling the screen to rest on his tiny lap as he watches the fishes swim by on the screen. You can't help the warm smile that blooms on your lips, "You like those?" 

He coos, big brown eyes sparkling with a question he's not yet able to verbalize. 

"Those are fat fish guppies from Naboo." You reply, as you tap the screen to restart the holo, the kid squeals in joy.

"Your dad ever taken you to Naboo?"

He responds, in his own way, a series of quiet and sweet sounds as his eyes are glued to the screen. His little clawed hand reaches out to tap the glass, the yearning to touch etched deep creases on his little brow.

"I'll take that as a no." You chuckle. "He should. That planet would probably suit you, I think." You murmur as you reach a hand out gently and softly stroke his big ears, velvety and smooth under your fingertips. His big brown eyes never leave the guppies as they dance from one side to the other, he leans slightly into your hand as you both grow braver to each other's sudden company. Much braver than you would have been at his size, he never flinches away from your touch.

You scoot your chair closer so that both of you can watch the screen, he turns up to face you, little hands clutching together as he burbles. You aren’t positive what he's asking but the feeling at the pit of your gut makes you answer anyway, "No, you wouldn't want to eat them. They don't taste very good unless you’re a Gungan."

He nods with a satisfied little chirp and you laugh softly, tickled by every reaction on his little face. You bring your elbow up onto the table, and rest your head on your hand as you watch him, "Would you like to see my favorite creature?"

Joy erupts on his little face, eyes sparking as he taps on the glass excitedly.

"Alright, alright!" You laugh as you search the data files for the holo, finally placing it back on the child's lap as giant four legged beasts race across the screen, their large soft ears flap with every gallop. You didn't think it was possible for his eyes to grow any bigger, for the sparkle inside them to get any brighter. He squeals with delight, tiny teeth flashing in his little mouth.

"Exciting, I know!" You reply, "Those are called fathiers and they are some of the fastest animals in the galaxy."

His bubbly language comes faster and faster, raising with the excitement of the races on the screen. You feel the way the child is already worming his way into your heart, bringing sense into why the towering Mando seems so protective of the little squirt.

He suddenly looks away, uninterested with the images on the screen. He murmurs something softly as he looks around the room.

"I know that face." You smirk, "I bet you, little one, are hungry."

He babbles in agreement. 

"Alright, come on up. Let's see what I've got laying around." You reply, shutting the viewscreen off before tucking it under your arm. He makes some more pleased noises as you pick him up from under his arms and tuck him into the crook of your opposite arm. You carry him through the small corridor in the back, and to the left, shutting off the lights for the front room as you go, making your way up a small staircase to the upper floor where you've managed to carve out a comfortable, if not small, home. 

You push open the door and sunlight streams through open windows of your small living area, a sturdy old couch is pushed up against the side wall, small stacks of empty data disks are splayed over the floor in random puddles and a spare viewscreen lays across one of the old cushions. You shut the door before putting the child down in the middle of the living area space, his little toes disappear into the high pile of the worn down rug in the middle of the room. He sits instantly, little claws grasp at the soft fibers as he looks around, taking in every corner of your home. You set the viewscreen from under your arm down next to him, “Don't wander too far, the kitchen’s right in there, I’ll be right back.” 

His big brown eyes watch you as you step into the kitchen area, your fingers slip under the lip of your helmet as you push it off of your shoulders and set it down on the small kitchen table before you wander over to your cabinets, looking for something that might appease a toddler’s appetite. 

You open the old creaking cabinet, barely getting a small peek inside your supplies when the tiny scritches of sharp toes come up beside you. You look down and meet the curious gaze of the kid as he stares wonderingly at your face, tiny little mouth gaping open and closed like a little fish out of water. 

You smile, “Yeah, I bet he doesn't take his helmet off around you yet, does he?”

The child doesn't make any sound this time, his eyes too caught up in the shine of your hair in the sunlight.

“Since you are here, you might as well decide.” You sigh, stooping over to haul him up on to your hip as you pull a few things from the cabinet, a crinkly silver package of some buttery crackers, some fresh fruit still in your netted shopping bag from only this morning and some freeze dried juice, “That look like enough?”

His little clawed hands make gripping gestures at the bag of fruit. 

“Alright, I was hoping so.” You reply with a smirk as you place him gently on the counter beside you, you pop open the silver sleeve of crackers before fishing out a couple to give to him. Both little hands are instantly occupied with a cracker in each, he takes big bites as he watches you pull the fruit from the bag. He alternates bites from one hand to the other as you peel the fruit and dice it into small enough slices in a bowl. Once one hand is empty of crackers he waddles over to the bowl, fingers curling around a slick slice of bright colored fruit that is soon sucked into his tiny mouth. You rehydrate the juice as quickly as you can, as his little fingers are quickly making both the fruit and crackers disappear. You slide him the smallest glass you can find with a smirk. 

“Look, usually this is for...adult stuff, “You find yourself reasoning with him as you fill the short spotchka glass with bright purple juice, “But if you don't tell Mando, I won't either.”

He burbles some kind of nonsense before he drops a half eaten cracker as he makes a beeline for the glass, still having to use both hands to lift the little metal cup to his lips. He smacks his lips in satisfaction after a few big gulps and then waddles back to pick up the discarded crackers from the counter top. 

You can't help but shake your head as you watch him, this was not quite how you imagined today going. You pick the little green bean up again and place him in your arm, quieting his wiggles when you hand him the sleeve of crackers, with your free hand you grasp the bowl of fruit and his little cup before taking him back to the safety of the rug in the living room. You set him down again and he happily waddles towards the viewscreen, crackers held tightly in his free hand. You put the bowl close to his legs as he plops down and makes a small whine as he taps the viewscreen with one, very sticky hand. 

“Well look at you, king of the castle already.” You huff but switch on the viewscreen again, this time bringing up holos of a different fish from another planet. 

As he settles in, eyes glued to the screen, you walk over to the couch and snatch the other viewscreen from off of the cushion. You fully intended to sit and watch him from there, but his face turns towards you and he makes that sad little whine again. 

“Ok fine, I’ll be right there.” You reply, as you move to sit beside him, your thigh pressed against his side as you bring up your own screen, “ I do have to work, you know.”

The child doesn't say anything else, instead he leans his head against your thigh and continues to chew on alternating fruit and crackers as the holos continue to play on the other screen. You lose yourself to your work in a matter of moments, sorting through information and locating the disks you will need in order to fulfill your end of the bargain with the Mandalorian. 

But where do you even start? The Old Republic? The fall of the Jedi? The Golden years? The Mandalorian Jedi war? You sigh as you start to compile a little bit of everything, hopefully the information he has promised you is worth the trouble of hunting all of this information down.

Before you know it the pale walls around you are painted orange with the setting sun. You startle out of your trance, eyes landing on the child, still curled up to your thigh. The view screen now dark as the holo ended a long time ago. He breathes heavily, you crane over to look at him as slowly as you can. His big brown eyes are closed, his little hand splayed against the fabric of your pants as he sleeps. 

Your stomach quietly grumbles as you realize you have the daunting task of keeping the kid asleep while you try to get up and start something for dinner. You shift your hips away from him, as smoothly and slowly as you can manage, sliding your thighs away from under his little green grasp, softly placing him face down on the carpet when you are finally able to pull all the way out from under him. He sighs and makes a soft bubbling noise but seems to stay asleep. You stay still for a few moments more, watching his little body move up and down with every breath before silently standing. You creep into your bedroom, pulling an old worn burgundy blanket from the foot of your bed and softly draping it around the child to keep him cozy. Maybe it was all for nothing, you chide yourself, the moment you start cooking the kid is probably going to spring awake.

You could have dropped a seismic charge into the middle of your home and the kid would not have stirred. It is only when you pull the roasted meat from the oven and the smell fully engulfs the room that you hear the kid begin to stir. It’s not a loud sound, just a quiet gurgle and shuffle of soft blanket as his little head peeks out from behind a mountain of worn burgundy felt.

"There he is, welcome back kid. You got room in that belly?" You chuckle as you place the hot pan on the counter, you toss the thick towels you were holding to protect your hands from the heat of the roasting tray to.one side before you pull open another cabinet and pull out two plates. As you cut the meat into bite size chunks you hear the patter of his little feet as he waddles back into the kitchen. He tries to rub the sleep from his eyes as he comes closer but he can’t quite reach with his tiny claws, so instead he rubs at his face with the thick fluff around the wrists of his little brown coat. You place a healthy portion of the cut up meat and vegetables on his plate, stopping only to blow on a roasted bit of root vegetable, trying to cool it a bit before leaning over and handing it to the child, "Try that."

He takes the entire bite into his mouth, chewing with a happy gurgle. 

"Not bad?"

His response is to clutch his claws up to ask for more. 

"Get your cup and I'll meet you at the table."

He clutches the air again in response.

"Ok, one more then go get your cup." You reply with a smirk as you pick up another steaming hot piece of vegetable and blow on it gently. You watch him from the corner of your eyes as the child looks up at you and smacks his lips in anticipation, until you hand him another piece. He pops it in his mouth before you can blink, "Ok, deal’s a deal buddy. Go bring me your cup."

He sighs loudly and dramatically before he turns around and waddles back into the living room as you set both plates down on the small table pushed to one side of the tiny kitchen area. He walks back towards you, dragging the cup behind him as he approaches. 

"Thank you." You smirk as you lean over to pick him up from off the ground and sit him beside his own plate, "Don't choke, let me top you off."

He digs in immediately, both hands snatching up every bit of food they can as he shoves it into his little face. You fill the glass again before setting it down beside him. You pull your chair up to the table and take a few bites as well. 

He eats his meal happily. Only stopping to gurgle in your direction or look around your home from his new vantage point on the table top. Your curiosity is starting to get the better of you as he waddles around the table, in search of more food for his plate.

You stand up and walk to the roasting tray, the kid watches you as you go. 

It was fine, you could show him right? 

The kid hasn't spoken any  _ actual _ words the whole time he has been with you, who is he going to tell?

You shake your head, this has bad idea written all over it but here goes nothing. 

"Hey kid." You say, reaching your hand out towards the table, with a quick pull from the energy buzzing around the room you snap his plate into your open hand. He squeals his delight, his little body suddenly flashes with his signature, a light blue glow all around him. 

"I'll be damned." You can't help but sigh as you load his plate up with seconds. You bring it over, placing it beside him before sitting down again. "You've been hiding away too."

He coos, brown eyes studying your face before he digs back in, the glow from his life force slowly fading away as he goes back into hiding. 

You wonder how much he has let his powers slip in front of the Mandalorian, but it wasn’t like you could ask him and get a solid response. A moment of terror sweeps over you, was this kid nothing more than a bounty?! 

No. 

Wait. 

You remember the way the Mandalorian had gently pried the disk from his mouth, the way the hardened killer seemed to soften when he had scooped the ball of energy off of the floor.

"He's trying to get you home, isn't he?" Your heart clenches under your ribs, the kid turns to you, gurgling softly as his reply.

Any work you had planned for the day goes out of the window after dinner as the child grows restless and full of energy.

"I'm gonna have to wear you out aren't I?" You laugh as he runs little laps in your living room area, you grab a long scarf from your closet before you lead him downstairs and out the front door. He waddles behind, funny enough keeping up with your strides as you let him roam into the evening air. The streets light up from the lamps that dangle on thick metal ropes between posts, the two open air cafes hold their doors and windows open letting the music from the live bands inside leak out into the street. 

This tiny little speck of town, untouched by the Empire or the rebellion, it was the best place the Mando could have landed. Safe, sound and hidden. You watch as the child wanders around, growing braver by the moment as he peeks through open doors as the music starts. He turns and looks at you, big brown eyes shining in curiosity until a group of other kids descend onto the street a few feet away. They split into their own little groups, some play on the sidewalk while another, slightly larger group, starts a game with a ball in the middle of the packed dirt street.

"Well go on then!" You laugh when he looks up to you, the request to play written all over his little face.

He squeals with joy and runs towards the larger group of children. He is pulled into their pack instantly. He is handed a ball and is walked through the game by one of the little girls who continues to hold his little hand as they play.

You watch from the sidelines, hopping up on a duracrete fence and folding your legs in under you, eyes never leaving the kid for long. One of the nearby cafe owners approaches you, handing you a mug of hot tea.

"That's the child that came with the Mandalorian, isn't it Conservator?" He mumbles.

You nod, slowly sipping at the herbal mixture in the clay mug, "His foundling."

"Is that what he looks like under that fancy helmet?"

You grin wide at the image it paints in your mind, "We will never know."

"You know, we offered to watch the child for him, but he declined. Why do you think that is?"

"To torture me, of course." You reply as you gulp down another mouthful of tea. Fucking full of surprises that Mandalorian. The man says nothing, just chuckles as he walks away, back to the few patrons of his small cafe.

You let the kid play for what feels like hours, it was easy to lose track of time when the nights were so calm and warm. You start to notice a bit of a drag in his step, his big brown eyes growing glassy. You swoop in and pick him up before he falls asleep on his feet, "Alright little one, I think you've had your fill."

He coos softly, rubbing at his eyes sleepily as you hold him close to your chest, wrapping him in your scarf before pulling it across your back, folding him into the makeshift carrier. You stroll home, the kid almost making a purring noise as you walk, tiny snores of exhaustion echo in the empty library as you lock up for the night.

You lay the kid on one of your extra pillows, and make him a small bed by your headboard. You pull spare blankets around him to keep him somewhat enclosed before tucking him in. He stirs for a moment before his little face relaxes again and he resumes snoring.

You sigh as you slip out of the layers of your long sleeve jacket and tunic, leaving on only a thin, sleeveless undershirt and your leggings. You rub away the slight itch from the constricting fabric that had been wrapped around your arms all day, but the dull ache returns to the scars on your arms. You rub at the aching skin with a bit more pressure. 

The emblem of the Empire burned into the inside of your wrist is still rough around the edges, the ink of your call number still sitting on raised skin, as if it was still fresh instead of almost fifteen years old. 

NC-062

It was marked up the length of your arm in bright red ink that could never be washed off. You hated it but at the same time it was your only link to who you could have been before you had been taken by the Empire.

You had traced the origin of your number for months after your escape, it had taken you to Naboo, but without a family name your search had taken you nowhere. 

Nowhere but here, where you continue to search for something, anything that would help you find whatever was left of your home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew!  
> Told you guys it was a THICK chapter.   
> I think this is the worst of them though, so yaaaaaaaay!
> 
> I have no set upload schedule, so sorry about that, but you know...life.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando holds up his end of the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo again lovelies!
> 
> Thanks again for putting up with my weird, out of left field posting schedule.   
> I've got another short chapter :(  
> This week has been a bit crazy for all of us, so I'm sorry I can't do more.   
> Next chapter should be fun too :)
> 
> Again, please let me know any thoughts, anything really...I'm still getting used to this whole writing thing again.

Mando appears at your door around midday, just as promised, dragging a being behind him. He’s almost a head taller than the bounty hunter, and you recognize the dusky tan skin immediately. 

“A Weequay? I thought you said your bounty was native to Baralou?” You ask as quietly as you can. The kid is fast asleep against you in his makeshift carrier made from the old scarf and a couple of well placed knots.

“Bounty’s dead.” The Mandalorian grunts as he slams the Weequay into the furthest chair, as far away from you and the kid as he can possibly get. The Weequay hisses, and attempts to lean forward but Mando’s already behind him, grabbing the restraints from around the bounty’s wrists and pinning them to the back of the chair. “He was a cover, this one’s the real trader.” He tugs on the cuffs and once he seems pleased that it will hold, he walks back towards you.

You hand the Mandalorian back his foundling immediately, scooping the tiny one from out of the carrier as you sense something like jealousy as he approaches you, his gaze trained on the bundle at your chest. The kid gurgles, eyes opening only a sliver before squeezing closed after seeing the familiar beskar chest plate. 

"Can I talk to him alone?" 

"No." Comes his instant reply, sharp and severe as he tucks the child into the canvas bag he seems to carry around for the sole purpose of transporting the kid. .

That was a question for another day. "No faith in those electro-cuffs?" You ask, "What could he possibly do?"

His cape does the same tiny waver as he shifts his weight from side to side, you would giggle at his discomfort if you didn't worry that it would make the Mando change his mind. "I'm not taking that risk." 

"There's only a risk if your equipment is faulty." You grit, your humor quickly starting to be replaced by annoyance. You weren’t sure how you were going to pull this one off, but you hope that maybe Mando was too distracted by the kid, by the quarry, by anything at this point to not pay you, and what he is about to make you do, any mind. 

"I said no."

"Fine. We do this your way." You sigh, a sharp pain starting behind your right eye, but you didn't want to waste any more of his  _ precious _ time. You turn to the Weequay strapped to the chair at the back of the room and walk closer. Temptation to call him a pirate on the tip of your tongue. Instead you focus on your breathing, you pull that familiar feeling from the pit of your belly, holding it steady in place under your ribcage.

He whistles at you disgustingly as you approach, "Pretty one, here to grant my last request?" He growls.

Your eyes couldn't roll any harder if you tried, the ugly ones were always the bravest. "Afraid not." You reply, steeling yourself a few feet away from him, heels planted into the ground. You start to slowly untangle the ball of energy from your belly, pushing it out from inside you and curling it around his thick throat, "Tell me about Baralou." You say and wait for the moment his mouth opens.

"I would rather use my mouth for other delights." He pushes again.

You take the chance and snake the end of your energy into his mouth and down his throat, scraping down his gullet like a vine covered in thorns. You can see the sparkle in his eyes dull as he feels you starting to intrude his body, you continue to push in and up, imagining you energy seeping into his brain like ink in water, slowly overtaking him completely.

"Tell me about Baralou." You say again, tone even even though it's taking every bit of your energy to focus your power over him.

He breaks like an egg against a durasteel floor. Everything slips from his mouth almost too fast for you to document at all. He gives you everything he knows, everything about the giant ribbony worms that he would sell. He gives you every secret he’s ever killed for: where to find them, how to hunt them, how to raise them in captivity. Anything benign and cruel that he has ever done to those creatures, all for the sake of a quick couple of credits in his pocket. 

In a matter of moments you have everything you want. You pull yourself away from him roughly, this time his body jostles as you recall your energy. His body slightly slumps and he gasps like he's been drowning the entire time.

You turn back to the Mando as you slide a disk from out of your back pocket and hold it out to him, his blank helmet reflecting the glowing light of your own as you get closer, "Deals a deal. Here's the main points you need to know, I wish I could give you more...but there is a lot there."

He takes the disk from you silently, placing it into a smaller pocket of the hide utility belt around his waist, the only exchange a nod as he pushes past you to collect his quarry. 

He drags the being out without another word, out through your front door and down the almost empty streets. 

"Kriffing hell," the quarry grits as he's dragged behind the Mando's strides, "They're one of those things…"

Mando stops in his tracks, the quarry bumps up against him, like running into a wall, he almost topples backwards, "What things?" He growls from under his beaker helmet.

"One of those wizards, the ones that are supposed to all be dead...a Jedi."

The Mandalorian grunts as he shoves the quarry forward from around the back of his neck, “I know.”


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I'm back!  
> I'm really sorry y'all, I wish I had a more reliable posting schedule but...life....adulting...real job...ew I know.   
> Anyway...  
> More domestic cuteness ahead for Reader and...and some more stuff...
> 
> As always, let me know what you think, somehow these chapters are getting just a little longer every time I edit them...I dunno...magic.   
> Anyway, thank you again to everyone who has taken the time to send kudos and post comments. :)  
> It's crack.   
> Keep it coming, lol!

***

Three weeks pass. Three weeks of getting back to normal before he darkens your doorway again. 

You are tucked into the corner of the hovel, surrounded by the glowing stacks of archives. You have curled into an old chair in the corner. Your data pad rests against your thigh, but the words in front of you lose all meaning as you hear his heavy boots come through the door. The Mandalorian leans over to place the child on the ground. The moment his little feet hit solid ground he comes rushing over, seeking you out like a missile, a high pitched giggle rings out as he runs.

"My my, your dad must be looking for a babysitter again." You smirk as you shut off the data pad and tuck it into one of the corners. You swing your legs down on to the ground and pick up the kid from under his arms. You plop him on your lap and the babbling begins, he's got a lot to say and many little hand gestures to go along with it. His eyes sparkle from the glow of your helmet as he launches into his tale.

"Really? All of that in three weeks?" You reply with a raised brow. 

The Mandalorian has only taken a few steps into your home, pacing back and forth along your entryway as the kid talks your ear off. He inches a few feet closer, and watches you carefully as the child babbles on.

"Do you...understand him?"

"No. Not really." You reply a little too quickly, "Children...speak on a different wavelength. I don't understand words per say, but I think I get the gist." It was only a little lie, a half truth. He wouldn’t believe the reality of the situation if all you had for him were words anyway.

In reality you could feel the kids excitement through a bond that has started to bloom between the two of you. If you had to put words to it: it’s a dark green silk ribbon the child has tied to your bottom rib; a blue one has tied the Mandalorian to him just as tightly. If you concentrate enough you swear you can see the ribbons even under your dim lights. Through this connection you can catch quick clips of memories he was sharing. It makes you nervous. 

The Mandalorian comes closer, pulling a familiar disk from one of the leather pouches on his belt. The thin plastic case has seen better days. One of the corners is broken off and there are little teeth marks deeply scratched in places. He holds it out in your direction and you have to stifle a giggle.

"Oh, thank you, I guess."

"It helped." He says, "I’m lost when it comes to the Jedi...his world."

You can only nod as the kid has both of his hands on your viewscreen, trying to yank it out from where it’s jammed into the seam of the chair. You pull it out for him and wait for him to settle against the back of the chair before you place the tablet on his little lap. He lifts his hands as you set it down and run the holo for peko peko birds. Once he seems content you turn back to the Mandalorian, "What else can I give you?"

"I won't have any new information until after I pick up my next quarry."

"I'm not asking for any." You reply, "I'm sorry I can't help you as much as you need."

"That's not how this place works." He echoes your earlier words.

"He's enough." You reply quietly, your eyes on the kid as he watches the birds fly past. "Fine.” You sigh, ”How long do you need to get your quarry?"

"Couple of nights."

You nod, "I'm sure I can manage." You reply as you reach out to stroke one of the kids soft ears. He looks up at you, his big brown eyes sparkle at your familiar touch, "He might eat me out of house and home though."

"Hn." His grunt sounds a bit more amused than usual. "I can compensate you when I get back."

"Don't you dare." You reply sharply, "I was only teasing Mando. I know you know what that is." You reply, reaching up to pull your helmet off, you shoulder it off easily and let him really see you for the first time. You hold the helmet steady on your lap, "Mandalorians aren't strangers to humor or sarcasm." 

He is silent for a few moments, you can feel his eyes on you through the T visor of his helmet. You reach over to hold your hand out to him and you give him your name, "If I'm going to be watching your kid, you should at least know what they call me." You say with a smirk as he creeps up and takes your hand into his. "Nice to meet you Mando."

You and the child fall into another easy rhythm, almost like he belongs with you.

You are always up with the first signs of daylight, just as the dark purples of the night are chased away by the pale blues and grays of dawn. By the following morning, the child has gotten brave enough to crawl over every blanket wall you have built around him and you wake up with him curled up under your chin. It’s now a game to see how swiftly you are able to peel him off of you without waking him up. You gently tuck him back under the blankets before crawling out of bed and drawing the curtains. You creep out into the living room to straighten up your home as quietly as possible before starting breakfast..

The kid, you remember, has a massive sweet tooth. You remember from last time just how quickly he preferred sweet morning cakes and brighter colored fruit over high protein mush. The scent of sweet honey pancakes and fruit jam is heavy in the air, heavy enough you hope, to fully wake him. As you finish making a nice stack of cakes his little sleepy foot steps make their way onto the slick floor of your kitchen area. You cut up his small stack of cakes into claw sized pieces, and make sure to give him a hefty load of fruit before you set him down at the table. You both sit in happy silence until every bite of his breakfast is gone.

Now fully fed and buzzing with energy it’s time to cart the kid downstairs. He is no longer happy with just sitting around watching a screen, instead he follows you around, trying his best to be helpful. It isn't odd to anyone who comes to see you in the next couple of days to see the little green child standing by your feet holding a disk or two in his little hands while he strains upwards, holding them out for you to take. If no one else is around he seems to get brave, and floats the disks up either in front of your face or taps them against the back of your hand. 

You grin. The kid probably wouldn't be doing it as much if you weren't kind of egging him on and thanking him enthusiastically every time he manages to send them to you from farther and farther distances. 

Once the suns hit the center of the sky you take a break from the menial tasks of the day, and march the kid out of the front doors. You wander towards the closest market to let him pick his favorite fruit for a small snack, usually another bright colored fruit that he gnaws into while you hunt down something for that evening’s meal. 

It was a particularly nice day today, the breeze even more gentle than usual. You watch as he searches the streets, watching out for any of the kids who usually run rampant during the night. 

“They’re at school.” You reply as you lead him to a small empty field a few blocks from home is, “I’d take you but your dad might kill me if he found out. Maker forbid anything should happen to you while you are there.” You smirk. 

He seems pleased enough with that answer as he gobbles the last bites of his food and then goes running into the field, pulling at tall stalks of bright colored flowers as he runs. You watch him for a while as he chases the bugs that flutter by, only stopping to take breaths as he runs in chaotic loopy laps. 

The late afternoon walk home is much more calm. The kid is riding in your arms as you chat quietly about anything and everything. As you cook for the two of you, you teach the kid anything that comes to mind, then finally, once he has eaten his fill of the evening meal, you let him run wild in the streets with the other kids until he practically collapses on his feet. 

You always carry him home, he nestles tightly against you in the worn scarf you always keep around for him now. It was usually a calm stroll home under the lamplights, except for tonight. 

The kid’s shields slip, you feel the change in the energy around you instantly as his thoughts and memories drift out of him.

It is like ash rising from a wildfire and it covers every inch of your skin. 

Fear. So much fear. What feels like years and years of darkness followed by deep blue pools of sadness, loneliness, you couldn’t put an exact word to the desperation that clutches at you, but it knocks the breath out of you. 

You lean up against the closest wall, trying to collect yourself and push away this onslaught he has released on you without meaning to. You hold him closer, watching as his little face screws up into something...distraught. You tighten your own shields, pushing away the thoughts he is releasing before you hurry back home. 

Your nightly routine doesn't register as you go through the familiar motions. 

You lock up. 

You walk upstairs. 

You lay him on your bed and tuck the blankets around him. 

You don’t come back into the moment until you are sitting at the foot of your bed, your boots laying sideways on the floor beside you. It’s the heavy thunk of them hitting the floor that finally wakes you from your walking nightmare.

The memories he had shared with you lay at the bottom of your belly, slowly pulling the entire weight of the galaxy with them. They were always running, the kid was being hunted and the Mandalorian was trying his damndest to keep him safe.

Who was hunting him? The kid was unclear. When you dare to reach out into the nightmares the child is having all you get are flashes of faces in dark uniforms and countless droids. None of these creatures ever stays very long in the kids life, except the Mandalorian. 

You don't want to say  _ their _ name out loud in case the galaxy should catch on. If you slip, and the images you see from the kids eyes are what you think they are, then you are right and proper fucked. 

You all are.

You. The kid. And Mando.

Three fish in a barrel. 

Easy pickings.

You find yourself wading through the dark memories with no exit in sight, until a gentle coo yanks you back into reality. Your head snaps back to your side as the child gurgles again. He has crawled over the short wall of blankets again and now sits next to you. His little claws hold your wrist, and you can see the instant recognition in his eyes as he scans the Imperial cog burned into your skin.

"Kriff." You murmur. 

You were right and proper fucked.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got nothing.   
> Here ya go, lol.   
> One more chapter *peeks into drafts* yup, one more chapter before shit starts hitting the fan. lol
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read this idea in my head that wouldn't go away, and thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to leave kudos and comments, y'all keep me going <3 <3 <3

****

He only manages to make it a few steps into your hovel before you tear into the front room and smash your helmet against the diamond of his chest plate.

"Fucking Imperials?!" You hiss, your rage filled eyes reflect back to you in his shining helm.

He stays silent and still. 

You crack your helmet against his chest plate again. "Were you ever going to fucking tell me you are running from Imperials?!"

He sighs, it’s heavy and slightly metallic sounding through the modulator of his helmet.

"You ever stop to think why people come to these tiny towns Mando? You don't think the Empire is hunting every single one of us and we don't have the luxury of fucking beskar?!" Maker help you, you didn't mean to get this upset but now you were seeing red and you didn’t know how to make it dissipate. You throw your helmet at the closest wall, unable to help your shout of frustration, "Take your kid and go!"

"I'm sorry." He sounds tired, but you are already too wound up to notice. 

"I said go!" You scream as you whip around, your back facing him before you start throwing punches. Your mind buzzes as the situation quickly escalates out of your control. You storm to the back of the room, unable to even look at him anymore as your anger turns to nausea.

The hovel is silent, until the child gurgles a question. The floor under his little feet creaks as he tries to follow you into the darkness.

“Wait, kid.” He murmurs quietly.

The little creaks stop. The entire room is silent, the only sound is from the wind brushing leaves against the walls of your home.

"Come on, let's go." 

You wait until you hear the Mandalorian stomp away. Only once his heavy footprints have melted away into the din of the outside world do you dare make your way back to the front room. Your hands still tremble with anger as you pick up your helmet and assess the damage. The corner of the screen is cracked, nothing major, mostly cosmetic though you don’t have the credits at this exact moment to fix it. You sigh as you rub at your temples, a headache starts to form behind your eyes. A flash from the corner of one of the tables catches your attention, you look over and sigh. 

He had brought you another disk of information.

The kriffing idiot. 

Now you were the asshole. 

You  _ hated _ being the asshole.

You groan at what has to come next and grab the disk on your way out of the hovel, your helmet still gripped tightly in your hand. You chase him down the streets as he heads for the outcropping where he keeps his ship hidden from the sightlines of the small town. 

"Mando, wait!"

He turns to one side, the helmet catching the sun as he turns. He stops to watch as you run up. The kid giggles from the dark canvas bag balanced on his hip.

"I'm sorry." You say immediately as soon as you are close enough, "That, back there, was really uncalled for. You've done nothing to warrant a reaction like that from me." He stands there as silent and stoic as usual, "I was scared. I really like it here, I really like the people...I just want to keep them safe."

He remains silent, you start to feel a bit self conscious. What else was he expecting you to do? Did he want you on your knees? You are about to turn around and tell him to forget it and go fuck himself when he finally says something.

"Would you like to see the Razor Crest?"

***

"You're telling me she still flies?!" You can't help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest as the silver gunship comes into view. The Mandalorian toggles something on one of the heavy vambraces on one of his wrists and the heavy boarding ramp falls to the ground with a heavy thud you can feel in your heels. The little green one has crawled out of the bag around his shoulders and is now making a beeline to the ramp. "You wouldn't happen to be called  _ jate'kara _ under that helmet, would you?"

He seems to stiffen as the mando'a leaves your lips.

"Sorry." You grin, as you make your way up the ramp closely behind the kid, "Been practicing, couldn't help myself." 

The kid makes another gurgle as he looks towards you, he folds his middle claw into his palm and shakes his hands inwards. You copy the signal, folding your fingers until only your thumb and your pinky jut out in each hand, before you shake them towards you. "Play?" Your right hand becomes a fist, your thumb held over your curled fingers as you make a knocking motion towards the kid, "Sure, little one."

He scurries off to one side of the ship with a keen, you watch him as he goes, a slight smirk on your lips.

"You taught him…"

"Just a few things in Basic." You reply easily as the kid comes back with a soft plush of a brown creature with pointy triangle ears and skinny legs, in his other hand is a silver ball with a blue marking on it. He places the plush at your feet but continues to clutch the ball tightly in one hand. You sit on the floor of the cargo hold cross legged, you pull the toy on your lap as he scurries away again, "You should teach him things. He's like a sponge, picks things up without even trying." Your brow is knit as you look over the creature in your lap.

"It's a loth cat."

"It's a little horrifying." You reply as you take in its ridiculously large mouth, your fingers easily curling the cloth teeth in its wide open maw.

"Hn." It's quiet but you can almost swear the Mando chuckled. "What else did you teach him?"

"How to swear in fifty seven languages." You throw back immediately and without thought as the kid comes back with a worn ball of grey and white felt. The tan curls on either side of its head make you think it might be a tauntaun but the little button eyes and most of its face are so worn down it's hard to tell. Beside it the kid pushes a gunmetal black box to your feet, "And the finer points of spice smuggling. You know, things kids need to know.."

"Well...at least now he can earn his keep."

You laugh, under that serious shiny exterior, this one was clever and kind of funny. "He knows a few words, basic things that should help in your day to day. Play, sleep, hungry…"

Now he does chuckle softly, you can see the glint from his helmet as he shakes his head, "Does he use that one the most?"

"You would think." You reply with a soft smile as the kid pushes the metal box towards your thigh, making a little sad whine in your direction to bring your attention back to him. You set the tauntaun to one side and trade him the loth cat as you pick up the block and turn it over in your hands. You can't help the grin on your lips at the empty thermal detonator case. You look towards the Mandalorian, "Actually, this is his favorite." You pinch your fingers together pressing it close to your mouth and then close to your ear, right on the edge of your cheekbone.

"Home." He murmurs.

You nod, as you put the case down on the grated floor of the ship. You push yourself up to stand again. The child has lost interest in the grown ups talking and is now busying himself on the far corner of the ship, "Can I look around?" You brush your hands off on the thighs of your pants, brushing away the bits of grit and dirt that stick to your palms.

"That's why you are here."

You leave your helmet on the floor as you look around, eyes zeroing in on the mobile Carbonite system tucked away near the back of the ship. You carefully lift the leather ties acting as a barrier between the ship as you walk closer. Your fingers lightly graze the buttons on the control panel as you look above into the overhead hold area. In the darkness you can see two large Carbonite pillars swinging lightly from the ceiling. 

"Clever." You sigh as your eyes scan through the darkness of the back of the ship. Crates are scattered haphazardly along with tools and random straps of fabric. It's a small wonder that the child hasn't been hurt with the chaos going on inside. The kid is happily gurgling away, sitting on top of a ratty old blanket on the floor. You turn back towards the front, your eyes scan the front of the cargo area. 

The Mandalorian stands stock still at the entrance of the ship, hands casually hanging by his hips, only moving his helmet as you walk from one side of the ship to the other. 

You point out the closed cabinet across from the hatch door, "Weapons or supplies?"

He stays silent and crosses his arms over his chest at the question.

"Weapons." You grin and raise your hands in apology, "Say no more." Your eyes land on the ladder off to one side of the fresher, the top rung hidden in darkness, "Cockpit?"

He nods, there is a quiet creak of leather and a silvery shifting of beskar. .

"Where do you hide your hyperdrive?" You clear your throat, trying your best to avoid the awkward silences. 

He motions up, helmet tilting towards the ceiling.

"Oh." You turn away, fully intending to mind your own business and leave that part of the ship alone, suddenly losing any grit and curiosity, but he steps closer, herding you towards the ladder. "I don't want to intrude."

"I would tell you if you were."

"Would you now?" You reply, nervous butterflies in your belly as he presses closer. 

You don't want him closer, people don't get closer to you. 

You nod violently and quickly scramble up the ladder as fast as you humanly can, skipping a rung here and there just to get distance between the two of you. As you stand on the edge of the floor above the child turns and watches, he giggles at the panic written all over your face.

You shake your head, "Oh yeah, really funny kid." You mutter, hoping your heart rate returns to normal soon as Mando starts to appear up the ladder.Before Mando makes it up to the top rung you yank the soft tauntaun from its spot on one side of the room and toss it to the kid, it smacks him softly behind the head. 

The kid giggles even harder at your discomfort. Mando turns, but only sees the child as he plays with the soft tauntaun. You don't know if he notices the distance that soft toy has suddenly traveled, but if he does, he says nothing of it. 

You stand there staring each other down for a few beats before he tilts his helmet in the way of the door.

You press your lips into a tight line as you nod and walk through to the arched doorway, the metal doors sigh open and the whole ship lights up as sunlight streams through the wide open cockpit. It's warm and lovely and you can't even imagine what it looks like out of these clear panels once you are in deep space. The cockpit is so open there wouldn’t be much between you and the stars in this ship. A tiny part of you suddenly misses the dark expanse of the universe and the bright blue lights of a jump into hyperspace.

"Haven't traveled in awhile." He says, as always it's more of a statement than a question.

"Years." You can't help the sigh, "Years and years Mando."

The hull falls silent as you look around, slowly cataloging every button and lever on the control panels around you. 

He's got a question, you can feel it in the air, you can also feel how much you aren't going to like what he has to ask. You lean back against the closest panel, the edge presses into your lower back. Your arms cross against your chest, you let out a breath and wait.

"Would you like to?"

"To what?" 

"Travel again."

"With you?" You ask with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"The kid listens to you."

"He listens to you too." You push back, trying to imitate that monotone that he has. Anything that would hide the slight tremor in your throat. 

"He doesn't act like it."

You can't help but huff, "He's a child, he's going to push your buttons, he's going to try your limits."

"Teach him what you know."

Oh maker, here it fucking comes, "What are you really asking Mando?" You reply, a knot grows in your belly, you keep your eyes low, refusing to look up at him, even if the only thing you would see was an emotionless helmet.

"You're a Jedi."

You laugh a bit, a scorned sounding chuckle that echoes in the cockpit. Your eyes are glued to the floor beside his feet in shame, "I’m not."

"The quarry, the one with the Krikthasi, he said…"

"Going to trust a bounty over my word Mando? He doesn't know a damn thing about what I am." 

"Until I can get the kid to more of his kind, help him."

"Don't do that." You snarl, "Don't use him against me like this."

"He will listen to you, I can’t teach him."

"I can't teach him these things either!" You shout, it broke every fiber of your heart to tell him no because Maker knew you wanted to. Maker knew you had dreamt of this very moment.

You would love to drop everything and leave this place behind to teach that lovely kid everything you knew but for what? To put a bigger target on everyone's back? "The answer is no, Mando. I'm sorry." You turn away and hop down from the second floor, landing on to the ground floor with a loud clank. The jump alone would have hurt a normal person, but you, it doesn’t even phase you as you land. The kid looks over, large dark eyes filled with unspoken worry. "See you around Kid." You sigh and snatch your helmet as you walk down the ramp and back to the city, never stopping to look behind.

****

_jate'kara_ \- Lucky


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing...nothing...  
> Then all hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: The Canon typical violence is coming in to play this chapter, slight mentions of blood and I can't write fight scenes for crap.   
> I apologize lol

***

Two months come and go and every time a ship lands near the outskirts you feel your heart clench. You did him rotten, what you did was unfair. He was trying to be kind but just like you always do, you ruin it.

You fall back into your daily routine: sorting, mindlessly storing away information that may never be needed again, but the kid is always at the back of your mind no matter how hard you try to push him away.

You hope he is okay.

You hope he is managing to slip through the Empire's grip as whispers begin to turn to murmurs. The Empire is rising from the ashes, attempting to be reborn, but this time it is darker. You can feel it in the atmosphere, the darkness that had clouded the sky during the reign of Darth Vader was starting to clog everything again.

You are terrified for the kid. Maker knows why the Empire wants him, but it is never a good thing to be wanted by the Empire in a way like that; a need so fierce they would be willing to burn down entire towns to find you.

The sun has just set on the horizon and the lamps all around are warming up their golden glow. You sit on an all too familiar duracrete wall, a cup of steaming tea in your hands.

The small girl from the pack of children approaches you with caution, she pushes a long strand of straight auburn hair behind her ear, "When will the baby be back?" She asks fearlessly. 

Your lips press into a line, "I don't know."

"Do you think it will be soon? We miss him."

"I hope so." You respond before you bring the cup to your lips, the hot water burns your tongue. 

The little girl seems satisfied, but disappointed with your answer and sighs before returning to the group. Her little shoulders dropping low, the chorus of “awwww” comes from the other children a few feet away.

You spend the night watching them play in the streets and making polite conversation with anyone who approaches you. You congratulate a newly wed couple as they uncomfortably ask if you might know of anything in your collection that might help them with their first child. You smile and ask them to come see you tomorrow afternoon, you'll be sure to get them what they need. "A gift." You respond when they look at each other nervously, unsure of what they could offer in trade, "We need more innocence in this world."

The moon is high in the sky by the time you wander back to your home. You catch yourself holding the spot on your chest where the child would lay his head when he was here, wrapped tightly against your body, tuckered out after a long night of play.

Sleep evades you that night. 

Something about tonight was bringing out the worst in you. Something about the way everyone around you was starting to carve their way into the universe made you feel...lonely. 

Inadequate. 

Lost. 

Again and again, you feel the urgency that only loss brings out in you, like you want to reach out into the universe and grab a hold of something - anything - to keep you from falling into the void but there is nothing. 

You need to stay busy. 

You don't remember when you pull yourself from the warmth of your covers and pad softly downstairs. The lights of your private archives hum loudly in the silence of the early morning. You slide into your helmet, the cold sticks to the inside spaces making little puffs with every breath you take. 

You start your search, finding files with old wives tales and home remedies, scanning them for anything you can think of that the new nervous parents could need. And when you can't think of anything else, you read past accounts of births in this tiny little town, taking notes on your data pad as you go.

You don't feel your eyes start to slip closed halfway through your research, you don't feel your head drop forward suddenly heavy with exhaustion, you don't feel your entire body curl up to the desk as sleep completely overtakes you, and most of all you don't feel the Mandalorian pull you from your awkward sleeping position on the table to bring you upstairs. You don’t feel him lay you on your own bed, helmet still firmly attached over your shoulders. 

You sleep through the tiny claws pulling themselves up beside you, but when the little warm body curls up under your chin your eyes finally flutter open.

Your hand comes up, landing with a soft plop between the kids ears. "Hey buddy, I've missed you." Your voice is raspy and thick with sleep.

He gurgles, little claws digging into the collar of your shirt. 

"Where's your big beskar friend?" You sigh as you sit up slightly, you hold the child tight against you with one hand while pulling the helmet from your head with your other. It bounces on your mattress as you let it slide off. You look around, running the sleep from your eyes and trying to piece together how you even got back here.

The kid reaches up and touches your chin, a shiver runs down your spine as he shares more memories with you. 

Sand and heat. Double suns high in the brilliant blue sky. 

There was a nice woman there with wild curly hair, you can feel how much she makes him happy. She's fun because she lets me get in trouble. It's not words you exchange but feelings. 

Holding the child in your arms and staring into the inky black of his eyes you can feel your resolve melting away. 

If Mando asks again, you won't say no. You'll leave this all behind...but you've got to tell him the truth first. You hide your worry behind a smirk as you turn to the child, your hand curled into a C shape as you run it down the front of your chest, “Hungry?” 

His little arms immediately spring up as he squeals.

“Not surprising.” You smirk as you inch out of bed, slowly standing with him still held carefully in your arms. 

“I told him to let you sleep.”

You almost jump out of your skin at his sudden appearance, you aren’t sure how long the Mandalorian has been standing in your doorway watching you. “Mother of a mudscupper, I didn’t think you could be so quiet!” You shout, your heart racing up your throat. 

This time he does chuckle at you before disappearing into your living area. You walk out behind him, still holding the child tight. He leans against a side wall, seemingly looking out of your window into the street below. 

“I didn’t think you’d be back.” You say as you place the child down on the thick carpet, he wobbles over to the closest data pad, tucked into your usual place between one of the cushions of the couch. 

“He likes it here. He’s safe here”

“You have a bounty nearby?” You ask instead. 

“No.” he replies, “My offer-” 

“To come with - wait.” You stop before you can finish the thought. 

You hear it before you even see it break atmo, your eyes train on the sky. Mando looks up as well, following your gaze. You murmur it as you see it land in the outskirts. “T-4a shuttle.”

The Empire.

"Fuck, you have to go Mando, and you have to go now!" You scramble away from the window, you snatch the kid from the ground and hand him roughly to the Mandalorian as you both move as far away from the window as you can. Your data pad falls from his little claws, shattering against the floor. The Mandalorian tucks the child safely away in his canvas bag, trying to keep him calm as he starts to cry and squirm. 

"Come with us."

"You won't make it out of atmo alone." You grit, "Go, I can buy you time."

He hesitates, "Why? Why does the Empire want you?!"

"Dank ferrik Mando, we don't have time for this!"

"Tell me why, tell me what they want."

You roll your eyes, your hands card through your hair harshly, annoyed doesn't even begin to describe the sensation that blooms in your chest, "For fucks sake Mando, it's because I belong to them!"

He takes a step back. If you could see his face you would put money on a look of betrayal probably etching itself into his gaze as you spoke.

You rip yourself out of your thin jacket and toss it on the ground and show your arm to the Mandalorian, the red of the ink even brighter than you remember in the daylight. This is not the way you were hoping to have this conversation. 

"You're a deserter."

You huff, "No, life would be much easier if I was. A blaster bolt to the brain and that's the end of that. I am a creation, a monster born and bred for the Empire, they are inclined to bring me back."

He is frozen solid, the only sign of life is his chest which keeps rapidly rising and falling.

You clench your fist, he's running out of time and all he can do is stand there and be shocked by the inhumanity of the Empire, "Please Mando, you need to go."

"They want the kid, something about his blood-"

"Gods damn it, will you please go?!" You were so riled up that you felt the tears starting to blur out your vision.

"Are they making Jedi? Are they making more of you?!"

He was downright impossible. "I was force sensitive when they snatched me  _ di'kut _ !" You growl, "They can't make us, but they can do other things."

Chaos is breaking out on the streets outside, you can hear screams and the sound of blaster fire. Panic rises up in your throat like acrid bile.

"Look, I don't know what they want from the kid, but please don't let them get him. If he survives whatever it is that they want him for or if he survives whatever they do to him, he won't like himself afterwards."

The Mandalorian is still and you wonder how long it will take for your words to bounce around his helmet before they sink into his head. The kid cries and he finally nods, "How do I get out?"

***

You can hear them coming closer. The sounds of doors being ripped off their hinges as imperial troopers in their white plastoid armor lay waste to the houses of the people you call friends and neighbors grows louder and louder. You are scared, your heart hammers under your ribs and if you don't keep reminding yourself to breathe you are sure you are going to keel over dead. 

The Imperials drag out the men and women from their homes, shouting at them for information.

“Where is the bounty hunter?!” 

“The one covered in beskar!” 

_ There is no death, there is the force. _ The words appear in your mind like a message from some nearby god.

You close your eyes and open your door and step out onto the main road, your long handled electro-axe dragging lines into the dirt of the road beside you. You stop in the middle of the road and turn to face the small squad of troopers, a few lieutenants scattered between them, the silver emblems of their caps shine in the sun. 

"The Mandalorian was with me." You call over, your voice cuts through the chaos.

The chaos quiets down for a moment as eyes land on you. Your own gaze lands on two lieutenants in the center of the fray, you can see their eyes flicker down, as they take in the brands on your skin. You grip your weapon a little tighter under their gazes.

"Deserter!" One of them growls before the other holds him back, a tight and sudden grip on his shoulder that stops him between steps. 

The dark haired lieutenant approaches warily. "What is a Praetorian doing in these quadrants?"

You smirk as there is a noticeable nervous shuffle in the group, "You're outside your jurisdiction boys. There is no Empire or New Republic presence here, but if you insist on asking questions about the Mandalorian, you are going to have to deal with me."

"I repeat,  _ Praetorian _ ," The lieutenant shouts as he visibly gathers his courage and shuffles closer, "Why are you here?"

Your eyes scan his face, the small smirk growing into a toothy grin on your lips, "Let  _ me _ repeat, lieutenant: you have no jurisdiction here, and if you think you rank above me...you are in for a harsh reminder." Your heart feels like it’s ready to burst from your chest, but you swallow down harshly and refuse to let it show. 

His lip quivers and fear rolls off him in tidal waves, he turns to his partner, "Kill them." 

The heat from the blasters is immediate as every blaster attempts to take you out, you ignite your vibro axe, it’s blue arcs of electricity snapping to life. You dodge a couple of shots, blocking the rest with a quick push from the force, snapping it back before regathering your focus and sending another wave before the troopers can get another shot in. 

Your wave tackles the first row of troopers, causing havoc down the next two lines of troopers. Shots ring out in all directions as troopers go flying into each other, you take this moment to jump into the fray, slicing at the splayed out troopers who are still attempting to stand. 

You try to keep tabs on the snarky lieutenant as he melts into the crowd, Imperial troopers pouring down the street en force. A blaster bolt rips through your shoulder, sending a searing flash of pain down your side. You see red as you throw your hand out and catch the trooper responsible by the throat. You fling him bonelessly into the closest hard surface, the sidewall of your own home.

Before he hits the ground you're already preparing to lash out at the next wave, quickly flipping your axe to your good arm, but you are not fast enough. A trooper charges under your outstretched hand, knocking you over. 

The air leaves your lungs as you hit the road hard on your back. 

The troops lunge forward and you hear distant shouts:

"Bring the e-net!"

"Clear the field!"

The crowd of white and black troopers part and you see the sky darkening as the electric net fills the sky.

"Fuck." You manage to gasp before it lands against your body and pins you to the ground. You hear it hum for a moment before it cracks to life like a lightning strike. Thick arcs of blue electricity fill the air and every muscle in your body spasms. 

Your screams fill your ears, eyes brimming with angry tears as white hot pain tears through you. The pain stops for a moment, just enough time for you to see the silver shine of the Razor Crest break out of atmo at the corner of your vision. Electricity arcs again and your vision is gone behind a wall of tears and a tidal wave of pain. 

You hear the boots around you surge forward in rhythm and then darkness. 

Sweet, sweet, painless darkness.

****

(yes there is more coming! We aren't done yet!)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!  
> Again this is my first time publishing a fic in years, so I feel a bit rusty!


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